Chapter 305: Aren't You Afraid of Me?

Timothy remained silent for a moment, then twisted his thin lips and scoffed. "What's the fun in you being dead? It's far more thrilling to watch you live in agony."

A glimmer of madness shone in his eyes, like two eerie flames dancing in the darkness of his pupils—sometimes bright, sometimes dim—sending shivers down Maggie's spine. Maggie stared directly at him, unconsciously frowning.

For some unknown reason, she noticed the brief pause before he spoke and the fleeting confusion in his eyes. So, in reality… just as Nathaniel can't bring himself to harm Timothy, does he actually care about Nathaniel, in his heart or perhaps subconsciously?

This thought struck Maggie as absurd. Yet, strangely, she couldn't shake off that moment of silence and bewilderment from him.

"Why do you hate him?" Maggie asked softly. Nathaniel wouldn't tell her, and Ericko always respected his privacy; perhaps only Timothy could provide understanding.

Timothy's eyes flashed crimson, and he sneered. "Who does he think he is? He promised my father he'd look after me, but within a year, he abandoned me. He kept saying he would protect me, but where was he when I was being humiliated?"

Maggie remained silent, noticing the veins bulging on his handsome face. In those seemingly innocent eyes, resentment, self-deprecation, grievance, and intense hatred warred. The complexity was unimaginable, making Maggie feel as if she were witnessing her dying self from a past life.

Maggie inexplicably recalled a tale of a demon trapped in a bottle and cast into the sea, never to escape. In the first year, he offered riches to whoever freed him. In the second, eternal youth. In the third, any wish. Until the hundredth year, when a fisherman released him, he sought to kill the fisherman out of despair. He had resolved to kill whoever freed him!

Maggie remained silent. She hadn't experienced his suffering, so she wouldn't preach kindness. Even though she always supported Nathaniel, regardless of right or wrong, she didn't want to counsel Timothy about forgiveness at this moment. She spoke softly, "It's lunchtime. Shall we order some food?"

Timothy gazed at her for a moment, then signaled the waiter and requested the menu. He reclined in his chair, his gaze lowering slightly, emitting a despondent vibe.

Chapter 305 (Continued)

Maggie gently shook her head, reminding herself, He's a deranged lunatic. Don't be fooled by his innocent face.

Maggie perused the menu, selecting a few dishes, then turned to Timothy. "What would you like to eat?"

Timothy glanced out the window, appearing impatient, and replied curtly, "Anything."

Maggie added more dishes and ordered two desserts, suggesting, "Let's have some dessert. It might lighten your mood. If you're feeling better, you might cause less trouble for me and Nathaniel." Listening to her words, Timothy refocused his gaze on her, seemingly emerging from an emotional abyss.

"Aren't you afraid of me?" Timothy inquired softly, scrutinizing her gaze.

Maggie locked eyes with him and responded softly. "Of course, I am. I'm afraid that if you lose control, you might want to kill me, or if you're in a foul mood, you might bother Nathaniel." Timothy chuckled, waiting for her to continue.

"But it's pointless to be afraid. Fear won't make me hate you, but pain will. Anyway, it doesn't matter whether I'm afraid of you or hate you; one call from you, and I'll still come running," Maggie said coldly. Timothy noticed a slight hint of bitterness in her words, and strangely, it lifted his spirits.

Soon, the dishes arrived. Maggie ate with genuine focus. Considering her recent illness, neglecting her well-being would only lead to more suffering.

The atmosphere during the meal was calm and quiet. Timothy's manner of eating was quite refined, unlike Nathaniel's gracefulness; it possessed a touch of meekness, almost making it easy to overlook his presence.

Suddenly, Maggie found herself wondering about Timothy's past and how he had become the person he was.

Once they finished, the other items were cleared away, leaving only desserts and juice. Timothy gazed at her, gently reminding her, "Don't forget about my brooch."

Maggie paused, realizing she might have forgotten it if he hadn't mentioned it. Meeting his intense gaze, she sighed. "Let's set a deadline for three months from now. I tend to take my time with these things." From sketching on paper to sculpting, sourcing materials to crafting, she found pleasure in this process and preferred a hands-on approach. Unless it was mass production, she usually handled it herself. Since she had agreed, she didn't want to go back on her word. Otherwise, if he changed his mind and tried to take what he wanted from Nathaniel again, what would she do? As for Timothy's brooch, Maggie already had a design in mind.

"Alright," Timothy replied.

Maggie lifted her gaze to study him. He often emitted a youthful aura, somewhere between man and boy, which was perplexing. However, under her scrutiny, he exuded a sense of depth and coldness, with a stern expression and intimidating dark eyes. In some ways, he even reminded her of Nathaniel.

"Have you ever consulted a doctor?" Maggie inquired.

Timothy smirked slightly, softly responding, "What for?"

In her mind, Maggie thought sarcastically, For mental illness or neurosis. She simply said aloud, "I mean, a therapist."

Timothy chuckled as he stared at her with a challenging gaze and asked provocatively, "Will seeing a therapist erase the pain the Camerons have caused you? Or will it magically turn you into a more compassionate person?"

His sarcastic sentence left Maggie speechless. He's right. Would I think I'm mentally ill? How could I not hate those who have hurt, deceived, exploited, and fooled me?

Maggie remained silent for a while before whispering, "It seems that it can't."

Timothy sneered, "Seeing a therapist won't bring me joy. It's watching those I despise suffer that truly brings me happiness."

Maggie couldn't deny the truth in his words. If she were to see a therapist, not only would she withhold the truth, but she would also feel repulsed by their lectures. She despised all sanctimonious preaching. No one could find peace after enduring countless wounds. If they could, they'd be saints. And clearly, she was not. Timothy was right. To her, Sierra's later life being miserable, the Camerons' downfall, Joseph and Vanessa's mutual resentment and suspicion, and Beth's unrequited love… all of these would probably bring her more satisfaction.

The random text at the end ("Send Gifts 70 9/2 May BB") appears unrelated and has been omitted.